Knock, Knock
by Grasspaw
Summary: "Knock, knock. Who's there? Your best friend." James' point of view when Sirius ran away.


**Howdy doo, everyone! Did you miss me? I know I said I was off fanfiction, but I changed my mind. HI again! And guess what? This is my second non-Remus-centered fic. I am very proud of myself simply because of that. I own nothing. EDIT: Okay, something I just want to make clear: This is not slash; this is absolutely NOT SLASH. I do not believe in that kind of thing, for numerous reasons, and I would never write a story about it. So, again: Not slash.**

_Knock knock. Who's there? Your best friend._

James remembered how he and Sirius used to tell each other that joke when they were kids, and how they would laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world. They had a dozen of them, jokes that they always told each other and that always induced laughter. And in later years it became a secret code, something that only the two of them shared, something special. Which was why James was forced to stalk up to Sirius on the second to last day of their fifth year and say softly, "Knock, knock."

Sirius started, looking up from the paper frog he had enchanted to jump all over his homework. The Gryffindor common room was empty except for the two of them; most students were outside enjoying the weather, and Remus was upstairs sleeping off the full moon. "Who's there?" the heir to the Black household asked softly, not looking at him. This in and of itself was a problem, speaking quietly and not looking at the person he was speaking to. James was worried.

"Your best friend," James replied, sitting down across from him and peering at his friend anxiously. "Padfoot, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, still watching the small paper frog.

"I mean, you've been all quiet lately. That's not really like you."

"Maybe I'm just growing up?" Sirius suggested flatly, shrugging. He still kept his grey eyes down.

"No, I mean... It's just that..."

"You don't get onto Remus for being quiet," Sirius pointed out.

"But that's the thing. Remus has always been quiet, you know? But you... it's different."

"People change."

"Not that suddenly! I mean, last year you were, y'know, and idiot like me. But then I come to Hogwarts and you're, well, quiet. And then after a few weeks you started acting normal, but then just a week ago you got... like this."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Remus came down the stairs. "I'm heading outside. Want to come?" he asked, and Sirius leaped up.

"Sure, Moony. Let's go."

* * *

><p><em>Up high, down low, in the middle, way to go!<em>

When they were six they decided that they needed a secret handshake, and that was the best they could come up with. They had decided that "too slow" was simply too mean, and besides that was how everyone else said it, so they had to change. Of course as they got older they simply stopped saying it, and then they added a few complicated finger-twists, wrist-flicks, and whole-body-spins. But that was still their handshake, something only the two of them shared, something special.

"Hey, Sirius, wait up." The young man turned back; he had been walking out of the compartment on the Hogwarts Express. "No, go on," James said, waving Remus and Peter off. The two shrugged and wandered away. Sirius leaned against the doorframe and _looked_ at him. James held his hand up. Sirius looked at it blankly, then, almost against his will and definitely automatically, he slapped it with his own. "Up high."

"Down low," James replied, smiling slightly, trying to coax a matching one to his friend's face. It didn't work.

"In the middle." Sirius looked almost bored, and James felt hurt. He couldn't help it.

"Way to go." The last part was said together.

"Great, James. We do have to go. We're probably one of the last ones on the train."

"Sirius, what's going on with you? I'm worried, mate. You're not yourself."

"That's a pretty stupid thing to say. How could I be anyone other than myself?"

"No, I mean... You aren't _acting_ like yourself. What's up?"

Sirius' expression was carefully blank, but his eyes were full of some unnamed emotion, so full that it hurt to look at. "Nothing."

"Pads-"

"James, I just-"

"Sirius, please-"

"I said no-"

"I'm your best-"

"I said NO! I'm-"

"I'm just wor-"

"Pron-"

"Padfo-"

"Shut u-"

"You've got t-"

"Boys?" They both started as the with that pushed the food cart came by, smiling sweetly. "I'm sorry, dears, but you're the last ones on the train. You need to get off."

"Yes, ma'am," they said automatically as they grabbed their trunks and hurried off, not speaking. Only a few families were left on the platform, and Sirius and James both went to their own before heading off in different directions.

* * *

><p><em>What did the mouse say to the cat? Don't eat me!<em>

He remembered rolling on the ground laughing about that one, because what else would a mouse say to a cat _but_ "Don't eat me"? It had made sense to them, and it had become another thing they always said. Especially when they were mad at each other; that was their way of making up. Their apology, something only the two of them shared, something special.

Which was why he wrote it now on a piece of parchment, along with a few brief lines asking for forgiveness for prying, rolled it up, attached it to his owl's leg, and practically threw the bird out the window. Then he lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and waited. He knew it was foolish to expect a reply that day, since the Potters had moved when James was ten and they now lived practically on opposite sides of the country. But still he waited.

And waited...

And waited...

And waited.

And nothing came, except a letter from Peter claiming that he was bored out of his brains and couldn't wait for school to start again and had James come up with any more ingenious pranks? James didn't bother replying; he barely even read it. He and Sirius had never had a fight like that, and it had been almost a week since they'd spoken. He felt sick.

Finally, a good two weeks after James had sent his letter, a reply appeared from Sirius. He sat on his bed and read it out loud. _"Dear James, I swear I'm not mad. I'll tell you what's going on soon, but right now I'm sort of busy. Your friend, Sirius."_

James stared at the paper until it blurred before his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>I am Mister Nobody and I want to come inside.<em>

That one had derived from the days when James used to steal his father's Invisibility Cloak. He and Sirius would knock on doors and proudly shout that out at the confused Muggles, then laugh and run away. A year later, when they decided to start a secret club in the shed behind the Potter's house, that had been their secret "knock," something that only the two of them shared, something special.

James was surprised when, a week after he'd gotten the letter from Sirius, he heard something tapping on his window. It was almost midnight, but he'd been up getting a head start on his homework; Lily seemed to like that. He glanced around in confusion, then went to open the window and stick his head out. Almost immediately a rock sailed through and almost hit him in the head. He yelped and scrambled backwards, then went to pick up the rock, assuming it was that insane Muggle girl who so thoroughly enjoyed throwing things at him. To his surprise, though, there was a piece of parchment tied to it. He unrolled it. "I am Mister Nobody and I want to come inside," he murmured. As tired as he was, it took a moment for him to comprehend the words. Then, "Sirius!" and he bolted downstairs, trying not to wake his parents.

He flung the door open to find his almost-brother standing there, shivering in the cool night air. "Come on in, Pads!" he enthused quietly. Sirius looked horrible, underfed and dirty. That was bad enough, but the painful cry of relief he let out upon seeing his friend startled James, and he felt curiously close to tears. He'd never seen his friend look so... pitiful.

"Can I get some food?" he asked hoarsely, and it stunned James to hear how... _weak_ he sounded. He bolted off to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a bowl of soup.

"It's just leftover, I mean, it's cold, but it's all I have on short notice and I'll make you something else-"

"James!" Sirius snapped. "Shut up and give me the food! I haven't eaten in days." He snatched the soup from James and, ignoring the spoon, held it up to his mouth and drank it, then fished out the bits of chicken and broccoli with his fingers. "Thanks, Prongs," he said softly. "I needed that. Got anything else?"

"Yeah," James said, flashing him a worried look. "Come on... Just sit down in the kitchen, yeah, I'll get you something. What do you want?"

"Anything in large quantities."

"Gotcha. I can do that..."

An hour later, Sirius had eaten his fill. Then he simply laid his head down on his arms and closed his eyes. James wasn't sure if he was falling asleep, so he asked, "Hey, uh, you want to go upstairs? You can have my bed; I'll take the couch..."

"I'm not going to sleep tonight, James." But he sounded exhausted.

"Come on, man, you've got to. You look like Inferi..."

"James, you remember how Remus refused to sleep for three days after that one full moon?"

"Yeah, he said... Nightmares? Sirius, what is going on?" He was frustrated and terrified and miserable. He wanted to _know_. He felt like he had down something wrong and that was why Sirius wouldn't tell him anything.

"I ran away."

The words fell like stones, so heavy that they practically left dents in the table. "You... you what?"

"I ran away from home. Mum's probably blasted my name off that stupid tapestry by now."

"Aw, man, Sirius..." He tried to wrap his mind around this thought. He had always known that Sirius hated his family, but this was something new. He'd never thought that...

"I walked here."

"You _what?"_

"Walked. Ran when I could; I spent most of my time as a dog. People would give me scraps then."

"Sirius..." His voice broke. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like. No wonder he looked so bad. "How long ago...?"

"A week and a half after I left Hogwarts. Sorry I didn't return your owl sooner; I'd stolen some Muggle's wallet to buy food and I got caught. I was on the run for the next week." He still didn't look up, still didn't open his eyes, but he apparently sensed James disapproval. "I was starving, Prongs, and I returned it once I'd taken the money out of it."

"Okay... Sirius, I can't believe you did that..." His voice was little more than a whisper. He couldn't imagine that... "Are... _Were_ things really that bad at home?" he asked softly.

Now Sirius did look up, and the pain in his eyes reflected and magnified that in James'. "I don't remember the last time anyone in my family touched me," he said softly.

James tried to make him feel better, in his own way. "Well, Sirius, that... that's pretty normal, isn't it? I mean, I don't think that my parents have... have touched me in a while..."

"Your dad shook your hand before you got on the train. Your mum hugged you. And then they both hugged you again when you got off."

James flushed. "You saw that?"

Sirius looked angry and more hurt than James had ever seen him. "I saw everything. I saw the way Peter's mum kissed his cheek, and the way his little sister hugged him, and I saw the way the McKinnon's all gave Remus this huge group hug... and I saw the way my father put his hand on Regulus' shoulder and didn't even look at me." His face was screwed up as he fought back tears. "They haven't touched me in years, James, I'd remember it. It doesn't seem like it, but that's the stuff I really... you know, rely on. You know how you tried to get Lily to take that "love languages" test to find out how to get her to go with you? I was bored one day and I took it, too... Touch. THat's mine. And my family doesn't love me."

He swallowed and panted as he tried to fight the sobs that were rising up in his chest. James could only watch and listen in sorrow. "I mean, it's not just that they don't hug me or... or hold my hand or anything... or whatever families do. Even just walking through the hall, if I pass one of them they step around me so we don't brush each other's shoulders by accident. Or if we're at the dinner table they all sit as far away from me as they can... It's like... It's like I'm something _dirty..."_

"I'm sorry, Sirius," James murmured. He'd never seen his friend like this, completely heartbroken. Sirius had alway acted like he didn't care and had hated his family as vehemently as they seemed to hate him. He had never let on that it hurt at all, much less this much.

"You don't understand," Sirius choked out. Then he simply gave up on fighting the tears and sagged in his seat, sobbing and pounding his fist weakly against the table. "They used to love me!" he sobbed. He wasn't bothering to keep his voice down, and James heard his parents stirring upstairs. He silently prayed that they wouldn't come down. "When I was little. They would... they would play with me. Regulus looked up to me. My dad would tell me stories. We were a family!" He swore violently. "And I don't... know when... it changed." He wiped his nose. "It was before I even went to Hogwarts, before I was sorted into Gryffindor. Everything I did... was wrong. Everything I said... was stupid. And everything I thought was practically outlawed. I was just a kid!" he shouted.

"James? What's going on?"

"Nothing, Mum, go back to bed. It's Sirius."

"Okay..." His mother sounded doubtful, but she headed upstairs. This only seemed to make Sirius more angry.

"That's what I want," he raged, yelling and crying helplessly. "You mum listens to you, she cares about you. My mum... calls me a blood-traitor and an idiot and all sorts of things. That's when she speaks to me at all... Usually it's like I don't exist. Mister Nobody. And no one _cares!_" He gave up on trying to speak; he was nearly incoherent anyways. Now he simply lay his head on the table and sobbed.

When he seemed to have calmed down slightly, or at least quieted somewhat, James leaned down next to him. "Knock, knock, Sirius."

"Who... is it?" Sirius whispered, looking up at James like a child might, desperately searching for hope.

"Your best friend."

**Okay, not exactly a satisfying ending. But I'm tired and I just wrote this in one sitting. Sorry, everyone.**


End file.
